“Hey Ma, just a regular night in Pawsburgh, noshing on a tomato-bagel at the Deli before a brisk romp with the Retrievers! P.S. – the Tomatoberry Swirl at the Palace? Still sublime. All love from your adventurous, tomato-obsessed beagle – Walter Matthau.🍅🐾”

Listen to the story here.

In a world where time was measured in tosses of a rope toy and ripened tomatoes, nightfall had a different significance entirely. As the last rays of sunlight winked out, and the light of the moon became the only saving grace – a transformation swept across the landscape. Suddenly, with an unseen signal, Walter’s world shifted from the normal grind of the day to the clandestine haven known only to the elite four-legged clientele – Pawsburgh.

“Ah, Pawsburg at dusk,” I whispered to myself, standing on the outskirts of the luscious green park, the beating heart of our doggy utopia. “Nothing quite like it.”

I am Walter, but if you’re a resident of Pawsburgh, you already know that. The town lived and breathed through its pets. It’s the guilty secret we held from our humans, who believed that ‘nap-time’ was our foremost priority. If only they knew.

Silhouetted under the vast moonlit sky, I made my way to Pupsicle Palace. The hint of frosty treats hung in the air, a necessary refreshment to the balmy summer night. “One Tomatoberry Swirl, please!” I called out, a tribute to my unusual fondness for the humble fruit among canines. The serving collie nodded knowingly; a hushed agreement on our shared secret tastes.

Post Pupsicle-palate cleanser, the Doggy Bagel Deli was next on my routine. Unlike the conventional, I opted for a bagel sandwich with a juicy, ripe tomato at its heart. A comedy in its own right, you might think. But then again, no one gets to choose their culinary quirks, do they?

“Your tomato-bagel, Walter!” chirped Daisy, the spaniel who ran the deli, her warm smile witnessed even in the semi-darkened ambiance of the Deli porch. I gave her an approving wag; it was the perfect night for eccentric cuisine.

Post feasting, the Fawn Cream Maltese Meadow was a sight to cherish. Laid out majestically under the stars, it was the perfect setting for an adventurous game of hide-n-seek with the Golden Retriever gang at the southern river. And to end the night, a wild sprint over to Yellow Tan Dalmatian Desert; no adventure was complete if it didn’t involve a good chase.

As I returned to my humble abode, clutching my treasure – my frayed rope toy – I quirked a brow at my reflection in the moonlit pond. I am Walter – a four-legged paradox, the tomato-loving, adventure-seeking, rope-toy-chasing beagle guiding my pet companions in this post-apocalyptic world. And Pawsburg? Our dog-run town was our delightful play-pen paved with our secrets, our adventures – our life.

The End.